As sand slips through my toes, shards surface;
brittle plastic honed by wind and waves.
I bury my son in sand, covering him with
shattered straws, bottle caps, cracked spoons
and multi-coloured chunks of broken beach toys.
As my children paddle, my mother and I comb
with plastic rakes and dig with plastic spades,
filling our pails with fragments for the car park bin.
My delighted four-year-old dredges a clear bag
of mucky water from the lake, the size and weight
of one that I once carried fancy guppies home in.
I find no treasure apart from a plastic coin for her till.
As the sun sets, I wade in, capture a plastic fish
with flapping tail to plop into the tub for bathtime fun.